


don't you want me baby

by ephemeraldt



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, F/F, tattooed!siyeon, the he's just not that into youification of deukae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29673411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraldt/pseuds/ephemeraldt
Summary: “You know, you seem to have devoted a lot of thought to my personal life for someone who claims they don’t like me,” Gahyeon says.Siyeon looks up. “I never said I don’t like you.”(In which Gahyeon has a new date every night, and Siyeon tends the bar.)
Relationships: Lee Gahyeon/Lee Siyeon
Comments: 53
Kudos: 213





	don't you want me baby

It’s not that Gahyeon sucks at love, or anything dramatic like that. She’d like to think of herself as an objectively date-worthy person. All her friends say she’s an incredible listener, and she has a stable job and mid to decent cooking skills and even her own place as of a few months ago. So she’s far from a lost cause. 

She’s just...unlucky.

“You’re _hot_ ,” the man sitting across from her says, but his voice is slurred, and in the loud, crowded bar Gahyeon can barely make out what he’s saying. 

For the tenth time that night, she regrets wearing a low-cut shirt. “Thanks.” 

Her date takes another sip of his drink, and Gahyeon would be concerned if she weren’t so annoyed. The guy was drunk when they met up at the beginning of the evening and hasn’t slowed down since. _I know his Tinder bio said “up for a good time,”_ _but jeez._

It’s late, and Gahyeon really wants to go home, curl up with some pillows and watch TV. But she’s determined to make it to the end of the evening, just so she can say it’s possible. “So what do you do for fun?” 

“I need to puke,” her date says in response, getting up and bolting in the direction of the bathroom. 

Gahyeon sits frozen for a few moments, and then sinks down in her seat. She fights the urge to scream or repeatedly hit her head against the table. This marks the third disastrous date of the week. She just wants something to work out, for once. 

The tattooed girl behind the bar is watching her, and that only makes it worse. 

Compared to the string of dicks from the previous week, Yubin is actually nice. Gahyeon might have even had a good time, except Yubin gets up and leaves the date halfway through because she apparently misses her ex too much. 

The night is still young, so Gahyeon makes her way to the bar. If she’s going to fall victim to whatever evil trickster god keeps fucking with her life, she at least deserves a drink. 

The bartender is the same one who’s always there, with the tattoos and dark hair and sharp features. She’s polishing a glass, and when she sees Gahyeon coming over, she raises an eyebrow slightly. 

“Vodka cranberry,” Gahyeon orders. 

The bartender puts down the glass and gets to work, but she keeps glancing over. Then, out of fucking nowhere: “It was a girl this time. That’s different.” 

Gahyeon wants to bite back with something like _bisexuality exists_ , _asshole_ but she doesn’t have the energy for _that_ conversation tonight, so instead she turns the tables. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Well, you’re in here every night,” the bartender says. “Shifts get boring.” 

“I’m not in here _every_ night.” 

“Most nights.” The bartender places Gahyeon’s drink in front of her. “You go on dates a lot. Or am I wrong?” 

“You’re not wrong, exactly,” Gahyeon says. There’s a slightly bitter taste in her mouth, and it isn’t just the alcohol. 

The bartender turns to the side, starts polishing glasses again. “So what, are you searching for The One or something?” 

“And if I was?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“No, actually, I do,” Gahyeon says, feeling slightly irritated that the bartender won’t look at her anymore. “Come on, you seem like the unnecessarily judgmental type. Lay it on me.” 

The bartender doesn’t say anything, just crosses her arms over the front of her plain black T-shirt. “Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other customers.” 

She walks away. Gahyeon finishes her drink, somehow feeling even emptier than she did a few minutes ago. 

The next time Gahyeon finds herself at the bar, her date doesn’t even show up. When she texts him to ask where he is, he replies, _sry my gf is back in town._

“Asshole,” Gahyeon says out loud, because everyone around her seems too drunk to care. She doesn’t even know why she keeps coming back to this bar. Sure, it’s convenient, but it has to be unlucky, at this point. And it’s not like the staff make it any better. 

“Stood up?” the tattooed bartender asks, as Gahyeon resentfully sits down on a stool. 

“Men are _evil.”_

“If I was allowed, I’d drink to that,” the bartender grabs a glass. “Vodka cran?” 

Gahyeon nods, feeling a little twinge of pride at the fact that the bartender remembered, even though that’s literally her job. 

“I don’t get it,” Gahyeon says, feeding into her habit of voicing her thoughts out loud. “I’m hot. I’m fun. I have two degrees. I’m a decent human being. And there are 7 billion people on the planet. Yet I can’t find a single one that’s willing to date me who isn’t also a humongous jerk about it.”

Siyeon places Gahyeon’s drink on the bar. “Have you considered that maybe the problem is you?”

“The problem isn’t me, I’m delightful,” Gahyeon retorts. Then she scowls. “I don’t know why I’m even telling all this to _you.”_

“I don’t mean-” the bartender starts, then shakes her head. “Look. All I’m saying is that you keep giving these people chances. I’m guessing you meet them on dating apps.” She pauses, as if waiting for Gahyeon to deny it, but Gahyeon has nothing to say. “Like I said, you meet them on dating apps. And then you have like, this constant revolving door of dates, and you barely know any of them, but get shocked when they don’t work out.” 

“What else am I supposed to do? I want to fall in love,” Gahyeon protests. “Welcome to love in the twenty-first century.” 

“Who cares!” the bartender exclaims, and she actually seems affected by this, which takes Gahyeon by surprise. “Like you said, you have two degrees. You’re clearly doing something with your life. Why should you worry about finding your soulmate, or whatever?”

“Because it matters to me,” Gahyeon says, and she feels herself getting worked up too, because she isn’t putting herself through hell almost every night for _nothing._ “You don’t know anything about me, by the way.”

“I know you deserve better,” the bartender says, and then starts talking to another customer, leaving Gahyeon sitting in shock. 

About a half hour later, she decides it’s time to go home. “Hey,” she calls out in the bartender’s general direction. “Can you at least tell me your name if you’re going to harass me all the time?” 

The bartender looks like she wants to protest, but all she says is, “it’s Siyeon.”

“I’m Gahyeon,” Gahyeon says, shrugging on her jacket. “But just because we’re on a first-name basis doesn’t mean we’re friends.” 

“I’m aware,” Siyeon says, and waves kind of awkwardly, and Gahyeon doesn’t let herself think it’s endearing. 

Gahyeon’s next date is a travesty from the very beginning, when she doesn’t even recognize the guy because he’s easily thirty years older than he looked in his profile picture. She suffers through to the end of the date, but she kind of wishes she was the one who walked out this time.

“That was hard to watch,” Siyeon says, as Gahyeon collapses at the bar. When Gahyeon looks up, she sees Siyeon has already started on her drink. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine by me.”

Gahyeon watches as Siyeon works, taking in her jawline, her shaggy haircut and the intricate tattoos running up and down her arms. Her hands move quickly and steadily, making all the pouring and mixing look effortless. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Gahyeon asks. 

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Woah,” Siyeon says, handing Gahyeon her cocktail. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m just curious,” Gahyeon says. “You seem pretty jaded about the whole concept, but I know no one starts out that way. Come on.”

“It’s a very personal question.”

“You know all about my disaster of a personal life,” Gahyeon points out, and that gets a half-smile out of Siyeon. Then Siyeon turns away. It’s only when she’s not looking at Gahyeon that she speaks. 

“Once.” 

“Once?” 

“I’ve been in love once,” Siyeon says. “No more questions.” 

“Whoever it was really did a number on you, huh,” Gahyeon muses. 

“I said no more questions.” Siyeon grabs a rag and returns to polishing. To Gahyeon’s surprise, there’s very little bitterness in her tone. She mixes a few more drinks for different customers, and occasionally makes eye contact with Gahyeon, which is a lot less awkward than Gahyeon would have anticipated, considering how intimidating Siyeon’s gaze is.

“I feel like I fall in love every day, with strangers on the street,” Gahyeon says, since they’re still technically on the subject. “But they never talk to me.” 

“That’s not love.”

“I’m _exaggerating,_ ever heard of it?”

“A few times,” Siyeon says. When Gahyeon doesn’t react, her lips quirk. “That was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh.” 

“A joke? That’s what that was?” 

“Yes.” 

“Could have fooled me.” 

“Shut up.” 

Gahyeon finds herself having a pretty decent night, despite everything, although she’d never admit it. Her and Siyeon make small talk, and it’s nice. Siyeon is kind of a dork beneath the tough exterior, and Gahyeon actually does laugh, a lot. 

At the end of the night, as Gahyeon gets up to leave, Siyeon clears her throat. “She did, by the way.” 

“What?”

“Um, my ex. She did do a number on me. That’s how I know all the shit you’re going through isn’t worth it.” 

Gahyeon offers up a small smile. “Good night, Siyeon.”

“Good night, Gahyeon.”

Later that week, Gahyeon finds herself bored on a Wednesday night. She decides to go to the bar, even though it isn’t part of her usual routine. Maybe she’ll have a chance encounter with a beautiful stranger, like in the movies. Or, if worse comes to worse, she can banter with Siyeon. 

“I didn’t see you walk in with a date,” Siyeon says, when Gahyeon takes a now-familiar seat at her bar. 

“I’m not here on a date this time.”  
  
“Then why are you here?” 

Gahyeon shrugs. “Bored. Lonely.”

“You don’t have roommates?” 

“I live alone.”

Siyeon looks her up and down, and Gahyeon feels weirdly exposed, all of a sudden. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“I’m an enigma,” Gahyeon jokes. “You know, you seem to have devoted a lot of thought to my personal life for someone who claims they don’t like me.”

“I never said I don’t like you.”

“Right. You just think I’m stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid either,” Siyeon says. She places an unfamiliar drink in front of Gahyeon, before turning back to work like nothing happened. Gahyeon stares at the drink, incredulous. 

“This isn’t a vodka cran,” Gahyeon says. 

“I know. I customized it for you. Try it.”

Gahyeon squints at the glass. “What if it’s poisoned?”  
  
“It’s not _poisoned.”_

“I know. That was a joke,” Gahyeon says, thinking back to the other night. “You’re supposed to laugh, remember?” 

“Ha ha,” Siyeon says, deadpan. 

Gahyeon takes a sip of the drink. It’s delicious, bright and citrusy on her tongue. “Holy shit. That’s amazing.” 

Siyeon’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “Thanks.”

“Did you always know you wanted to be a bartender?” 

“Oh yeah,” Siyeon says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just like every other little girl. One day I stopped playing with Barbies and said Mommy, I want to be a _bartender_.”

“Well, you’re good at it,” Gahyeon says. 

Siyeon leans against the bar. There’s hardly any other customers, so all her attention is on Gahyeon. “What about you? I’m assuming you have some kind of fancy real person job.”

“I listen to old men argue about money all day, it’s terribly boring. At least you get to have interesting conversations.” 

“Did you just indirectly compliment yourself?”

“It’s an art,” Gahyeon says, and winks. Siyeon turns away, but Gahyeon thinks she sees her cheeks turn pink.

On Saturday, Gahyeon is scheduled to go on a date with a woman named Handong. Gahyeon is at least halfway convinced Handong is a catfish, because she’s way too pretty and successful to be real, until the woman approaches her outside the bar with a sly grin and a leopard print coat draped over her arm. 

They walk inside, and Gahyeon feels self-conscious, because coming to the bar was her idea, and she’s suddenly aware of how plain it is - it’s not seedy or run-down by any means, but it’s nothing special, either. Handong seems like the type who would be more accustomed to nicer places. But then Handong is pulling Gahyeon’s chair out for her, and the conversation flows easily, and Gahyeon feels her anxieties drift away. 

And the date goes...really well. Handong is brilliant and fascinating, with a sharp wit and a sexy laugh. She talks about studying to get her PhD in health sciences, and Gahyeon mentions wanting to go back to school again someday, and the conversation turns into a humorous discussion of the highs and lows of academia. Gahyeon feels her romantic side starting to get carried away - there’s a little voice in her head whispering that Handong might be the _one._

Then, Handong’s phone rings. “I’m so sorry angel, I need to take this.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” Gahyeon says, feeling her chest flutter at the nickname. Handong stands up and walks to the back of the room, where it’s quieter. Gahyeon waits patiently for five, and then ten minutes, but Handong stays on the phone. Once fifteen minutes pass, Gahyeon gets up and decides to go visit Siyeon at the bar. 

“Hey,” Gahyeon says, leaning over the flat surface. “No drink tonight, I’m here purely to gloat.” 

“Is that so?” Siyeon asks, delicately placing a skewered olive into a martini glass. 

“Yes. Her name is Handong, she’s nice and smart and beautiful. And guess what? I met her on a dating app.”

“That’s great for you,” Siyeon says, and if she sounds less than enthused, Gahyeon pretends not to notice.

“I know. I’m not a lost cause after all,” Gahyeon says. 

Siyeon’s facing her now, and suddenly, her expression looks pained. Gahyeon frowns. “What is it?”

“Don’t look now, but your dream girl is leaving.”

And Gahyeon should have heeded Siyeon’s warning, but she doesn’t. Instead, she turns her head around to see Handong rushing out the front door, quickly and without sparing Gahyeon a glance. 

Fuck.

She checks her phone to see if there are any messages from Handong. Nothing. Gahyeon feels her heart drop and her face go hot, the way it always does when she’s about to burst into tears. How could she think this time would be different? She was so, so stupid. 

She can’t even bring herself to look at Siyeon, because _god._ She had come over to _gloat_. She thought this would be her big victorious moment _,_ and then Handong _left._

“Hey,” Siyeon says. Her voice is softer than Gahyeon has ever heard it, but Gahyeon barely processes anything. “Um, I’m not good at...it’ll be okay.”

Gahyeon swallows, staring down at the wooden surface of the bar. “You know, maybe I’ll have that drink after all.” 

She downs the drink, and then another, and then another. By the fourth, Siyeon is threatening to cut her off. Gahyeon pouts and orders tequila shots. She knows she’s embarrassing herself, letting the night fall like sand between her fingers, saying things she doesn’t mean and draping herself over the bar. But she _hurts_ and she doesn’t want to hurt and all the alcohol is right _there._

“We’re closing,” Siyeon says, at some point in the night. Has it really been that long? Time is so funny. 

“Closing?” Gahyeon giggles. 

“Yeah. You need to leave.”

“You’re pretty.” 

Siyeon runs her hands through her hair, and then over her face. “Fuck. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an _idiot,”_ Gahyeon says. “Okay m-maybe a little. But you’re nice.”

“No. I’m not nice. I let you get this drunk. I should have known you were a lightweight.” 

How was Siyeon supposed to know that? Siyeon is so silly. Gahyeon makes a face and shrugs, trying to get her to laugh. “Just call me a cab.” 

“At this time of night, when you live alone? No way,” Siyeon says. “You can sober up at my place. I live upstairs.” 

Gahyeon tries to protest, but Siyeon walks away before she can finish. Gahyeon reaches for her phone, finding it dead. Shit. How long _has_ she been drinking? 

Siyeon returns. “Manager says I’m good to go. Come on.” 

“How do I know you’re not a kidnapper?”

“I promise.” 

Gahyeon reaches for Siyeon’s elbow, tugging her around so they're standing face to face. “Do you _pinky promise?”_

Siyeon gives her this incredulous look, and Gahyeon sticks out her chin defiantly, holding up her pinky. For the first time, she realizes Siyeon has a few inches on her.

“Fine. Yes. God. I pinky promise,” Siyeon says, rolling her eyes as they link pinkies. She turns and walks away, shaking her head, and Gahyeon follows. They walk through the bar’s tiny kitchen, out a back door and into an alley. If Gahyeon was sober, she would probably be worried about rats or creepy people lurking in the shadows, but everything is a little fuzzy. She hears a jingling sound, and realizes it’s Siyeon with a set of keys. 

They walk through a door and up a narrow flight of stairs that smell like mildew, and then through another door, and then they’re in Siyeon’s apartment. It’s small and dimly lit, but cozy. The walls are covered with posters for bands Gahyeon doesn’t recognize. Mismatched quilts are draped over the furniture. There’s a startlingly realistic replica of Captain America’s shield sitting in the corner next to a keyboard. 

“I know it’s not much,” Siyeon says, clearing her throat. 

“I like it,” Gahyeon says. “It suits you.” And it does. She barely knows Siyeon, but she still feels comfortable around her. It’s the same way in her apartment. 

“You can sit on the couch, um, if you want. Feel free to nap, I bet you’re tired.” 

“Aren’t _you_ tired?”

“I sleep in,” Siyeon says. Her hands are in her pockets. “Part of the job.” 

So Gahyeon takes to the couch. She tries to stay seated, but it isn’t long before she feels her eyelids getting heavy. As she’s falling asleep, she thinks she can feel Siyeon watching her. But it’s probably just a figment of her drunk imagination. 

She wakes up to the smell of something burning. 

“I made breakfast,” Siyeon says, unceremoniously dumping an entire frying pan in the garbage bin. “I don’t know fucking _why.”_

They have cereal on the couch instead. 

“So you don’t really cook, huh?” Gahyeon asks. She’s still in her clothes from the night before - she had absolutely no intentions of staying until the morning, but for some reason, Siyeon didn’t wake her up. 

Taking in the dark circles under Siyeon’s eyes, Gahyeon wonders if Siyeon even slept at all. 

“No. I don’t really cook,” Siyeon says. 

“Don’t you ever wonder why you can’t cook if you’re such an amazing bartender?” 

“You think I’m an amazing bartender?”

“Of course I do! I’m like your most loyal customer,” Gahyeon says. 

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s not symbiotic,” Siyeon says. She swallows another bite of cereal. “Speaking of my bartending, how are you feeling? Last night was kind of a lot.” 

“Not too hungover,” Gahyeon says. “I mostly still feel shitty about being walked out on again. I don’t know what it is. Do I have a big warning sign over my head that says contents are perpetually undateable?” 

Siyeon snorts. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

“Then what is? I know you think my expectations are too high or whatever, but come on! All I want is a little human decency.” 

“That’s not all you want, though,” Siyeon says softly. 

“Whatever,” Gahyeon says, because she can feel herself starting to get irritated, and she doesn’t want to fight with Siyeon while she’s a guest in her home. 

They spend the next half hour talking about other things entirely, like music and the posters on Siyeon’s walls. Gahyeon reveals she used to dance, Siyeon demands to see some moves, and Gahyeon obviously refuses. “There’s no music!”

“You want music? I can give you music.”

“I take it back! I take it all back!” 

Gahyeon ends up staying much longer than she thought she would. “Thanks, by the way,” she says later, when she’s plugging her phone into Siyeon’s charger so she can call an Uber. “And not just for the charger.”

“It’s no biggie,” Siyeon says, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. “I mean, I was happy to- you were wasted.” 

“Still, it means a lot that you didn’t leave me to die,” Gahyeon half-jokes. She briefly considers kissing Siyeon on the cheek, but then thinks better of it. 

It isn’t until she’s in the backseat of the Uber that she realizes she has an unread text. 

_Hey, it’s Handong. I’m so sorry about last night. Give me another chance? I promise I can explain everything._

And it’s embarrassing how quickly she responds, with a pink heart emoji and a _sure, what time can you call?_ Really, she should have ruminated, or followed whatever rules Cosmo has in place about how long to wait before texting back. But there’s a force that's stronger than her dignity, and it’s just how badly she wants something, anything, to work out for once.

Handong explains everything, and it makes perfect sense. There was an emergency at the research hospital where she works part-time, and she forgot she was on-call the night she scheduled the date with Gahyeon. She apologizes. Gahyeon accepts. 

“So, would you like to go out again?” Handong asks, voice heart-meltingly smooth on the phone. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Gahyeon knows this is her chance for a fresh start, maybe at some nice restaurant or somewhere cool and trendy. But for some reason, the first thing she suggests is the same local bar she goes to every single weekend. There’s a tugging in her chest. It feels like guilt. Gahyeon pushes it aside. 

She arrives at the bar early before the date. Siyeon is wearing a muscle tee instead of her usual T-shirt, and Gahyeon pauses to admire how it makes her tattoos look. 

“Hey, you,” Siyeon says. It’s a friendlier greeting than Gahyeon is used to, and she feels the tugging in her chest return in full force. 

“Hey,” Gahyeon says. She figures there’s no use beating around the bush. “So I’m seeing Handong again tonight.” 

“After she ditched you?” Siyeon takes a step back, and she’s looked at Gahyeon a lot of ways, but never with disappointment until now. “What the fuck? Why?” 

“Turns out there was an emergency,” Gahyeon says. “She works in the medical industry _.”_

“Well I work in the no bullshit industry, and I’m suspicious.”

That pisses Gahyeon off. “Actually, you work in the service industry, and you should be pouring me a drink right now.” 

Siyeon grits her teeth, but grabs a glass. “How do you know she’s not just going to stand you up again? I mean, that wouldn’t exactly be out of left field for you, would it?” 

“That drink better be on the house,” Gahyeon says, feeling anger start to boil in her chest. “Because you’re being a real bitch to me right now. I know my love life is some big joke to you, but not every person who shows interest in me is searching for the nearest exit.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Fine,” Gahyeon says. “What did you mean, then?”

“I meant that you shouldn’t go out with her again,” Siyeon says, angrily placing a bottle of gin back on the shelf behind her. Gahyeon is surprised it doesn’t shatter. 

“Why not? She’s nice and funny and-”

“I really don’t care, she _left you.”_

“...And if she does stand me up again, I can handle it! I have handled so much shit because I know love is out there for me, and I am stronger because of it, no matter what you say.”

Siyeon closes her eyes. When she opens them, there’s an unreadable expression on her face. “I know you’re strong, Gahyeon.” 

“So why don’t you want me to go out with her?” Gahyeon asks, because she feels like there’s something Siyeon’s not telling her. She just wants Siyeon to _tell_ her. 

“Shouldn’t you be meeting your date outside?” Siyeon asks, voice low. 

“Come on, Siyeon. Give me one good reason.” 

More customers are gathering at the bar now. Gahyeon knows she doesn’t have Siyeon’s undivided attention anymore, a fact that frustrates her even though it shouldn’t. A man next to her orders a complicated list of drinks, and Siyeon is nodding, going through the motions. Gahyeon is fully prepared to walk away, leaving the conversation unresolved. 

Then Siyeon looks straight at Gahyeon, and there’s something in her eyes that stops Gahyeon in her tracks. 

“You’re smart,” Siyeon says. “Figure it out.”

Gahyeon walks away. She makes it about ten steps before turning around. Siyeon is still watching her. 

And she does. 

Handong looks beautiful, and Gahyeon feels terrible for what she has to do. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “And I don’t know how to say this without sounding incredibly overdramatic, but my heart is just somewhere else tonight.” 

Handong nods, slowly, taking the words in. “I guess I missed my chance,” she says. “Make sure she’s worth it, okay?” 

Gahyeon just smiles in response, and walks back into the bar. That same _stupid_ bar she kept coming back to over and over, even after she had long convinced herself it was bad luck. And she had never stopped to question if it was supposed to mean something. 

Christ. They’re both idiots. 

She walks straight up to where Siyeon is standing behind the bar. “You like me.” 

Siyeon’s face goes red, and if Gahyeon were any giddier she’d start dancing on the bar. “Do you see how many people are around?” Siyeon hisses. 

“I don’t care!” Gahyeon says. She feels invincible and exhilarated and overwhelmed. “You _like_ me.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Siyeon says. “ _Unfortunately_.”

“You can’t even play that game!” Gahyeon exclaims. “I’m obnoxious, and you like me. I’m a hopeless romantic, and you still like me.”

“I know,” Siyeon says. There’s a small smile on her face. Gahyeon wants to see how big it can get. “Are you going to do anything about it?” 

“When’s your break?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” Gahyeon says, with a wink she knows she can pull off. “Meet me outside.”

The first thing Gahyeon does when Siyeon steps into the alley is kiss her. 

It’s hot and fast and almost angry, with Gahyeon pushing Siyeon against a dirty concrete wall and tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. Siyeon responds, pressing her tongue into Gahyeon’s mouth. Her hands tremble when they come to rest on Gahyeon’s lower back, and Gahyeon realizes that Siyeon is _nervous,_ a thought that fills her with a thrill. They kiss and kiss, and it’s pretty damn close to perfect, but then Siyeon is breaking away. 

“W-wait,” she stammers out.“We should talk.”

“We can talk later,” Gahyeon whines, leaning in again. Siyeon indulges her for a few seconds, but then pulls back again. 

“No, I need to say this.”

“Fine,” Gahyeon says, eyes still on Siyeon’s lips. It’s not her fault. They’re distracting. 

“I like you, so much,” Siyeon says. “Yes, you’re obnoxious and a hopeless romantic, but you’re also brilliant and gorgeous and witty and…” Her voice trails off. 

“No, keep going,” Gahyeon says. “I’m enjoying this.”

“Fuck off. Listen. I had a point.” Siyeon looks Gahyeon straight in the eyes, and it’s so intense that Gahyeon feels her knees go weak. “You deserve to be happy. And I can't give you what you want. Some fairytale. That's not me."

Gahyeon wants to laugh, almost, because Siyeon still doesn’t get it. “You idiot, I don’t want a fairytale. I just want someone who wants me.” When she looks up, Siyeon’s eyes are dark. “You want me, don’t you?”

“I want you so bad it makes me stupid," Siyeon says.

And then they're kissing again, and Gahyeon's chest feels lighter than air, and she can't believe the right person was right there all along. This time, she's the one who pulls away, laughing loudly into the night. 

"You know," she says. "We don't have to plan everything. We can just take it as we go."

"I'd like that," Siyeon says, and she reaches for Gahyeon's hand. "Learning together." 

"Learning together," Gahyeon echoes, before leaning in again. 

"I didn't even realize, but it finally happened," Gahyeon says, much later that night. "Something worked out. I didn't leave the bar alone." 

Siyeon just rolls her eyes and pulls the covers over Gahyeon's head. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always appreciated! xoxo


End file.
